


Shiver

by ashtobone



Series: Winter Wolves [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Adaptation, Angst, Animal Transformation, F/M, Harry Styles and Taylor Swift are best friends, Heavy Angst, High School Dynamics, Liam is kinda of a bitch, M/M, Minor Character Death, No Sex, No Smut, POV First Person, POV Harry Styles, POV Louis Tomlinson, Werewolves, Zayn is not there yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 10,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26161624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtobone/pseuds/ashtobone
Summary: When winter comes, Harry is attracted by the familiar presence of the wolves that live in the woods behind his home. He has been waiting anxiously for the cold since he first looked into the deep blue eyes of one of the wolves and survived the attack of a pack.These same bright eyes he would later find in Louis a boy who grew up living two lives - one normal, under the sun, and the other in winter, when he wore the fur of the ferocious animal that once found that boy without fear.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: Winter Wolves [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899775
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Shiver" is an adaptation and was originally published in 2017, on Wattpad. For many reasons, I was absent and took my stories with me. I don't intend to publish them again on Wattpad, but it seems unfair to leave them in the dark and away from the people who read, liked and supported me when I published it.
> 
> This and all my stories originally posted on Wattpad will be transferred here to the Archive and I hope they can still please some hearts as they once did.

**• Harry •**

I remember lying in the snow, where even a small red spot of heat would cool, surrounded by wolves. They bit me, licked me, pushed me, choked me. Their huddled bodies blocked the least heat from the sun. The ice sparkled on the fur on his necks and his breath created shapes that floated around us. The smell of the fur reminded me of a wet dog and burning leaves, both pleasant and terrifying. Their tongues melted my skin, their rough teeth tore the sleeves of my shirt and pulled my hair out, advancing to my collarbone, to the vein in my neck.

I could have screamed, but I didn't. I could have fought, but I didn't. I just lay there and let it happen, watching the white winter sun turn gray above me.

A wolf nudged my hand and cheek with its snout, casting a shadow over my face. His blue eyes penetrated mine as the other wolves shook me everywhere.

I held on to those eyes as long as I could.  _ Blue _ . I didn't want him to look away, and he didn't. I wanted to reach out and grab the fur around his neck, but my hands were still wrapped around my chest, my arms petrified by my body.

I couldn't remember what it felt like to be warm.

Then he was gone and, without him, the other wolves approached. Too close, suffocating. Something seemed to throb in my chest.

There was no sun, there was no light. I was dying. I couldn't remember what the color of the sky was like.

But I didn't die. I was lost in a sea of cold and then I was reborn in a world of heat.

I remember only that: _ his blue eyes _ .

I thought I would never see them again.


	2. Chapter 2

**• Louis •**

They pulled the boy off the tire swing in the yard and dragged him into the forest; his body left a trail in the snow, a trail from his world to mine. I saw everything happen. I didn't stop them.

It was the longest and coldest winter of my life. Day after day under a pale and useless sun. And hunger - hunger that burned and eroded, sovereign, insatiable. Nothing moved that month, the landscape frozen in a frame without color or life. One of us had been shot while trying to steal someone's dumped garbage, so the rest of the pack remained in the forest and gradually became hungry, waiting for the heat and for our old bodies. Until they found the boy. Until they attacked him.

They bent around him, snarling and snapping, vying to take the first bite.

I saw. I saw their bodies shudder. I saw them pull the boy's body in all directions, the snow beneath him diminishing with the movement. I saw muzzles stained red. Still, I didn't stop them.

I was the head of the pack, so I could have done something right away, but I backed away, shivering in the cold, with snow up to my ankles. The boy smelled warm, alive and above all, human. What was wrong with him? If he was alive, why didn't he fight?

I could smell his blood, hot and bright in that cold, dead world. I saw one of the wolves tremble and cringe as it ripped through his clothes. My stomach contracted, aching - I hadn't eaten in a long time. I wanted to ward off all the wolves and pretend I didn't smell that human smell, that I didn't hear the moans. He was so small there, immersed under our savagery, under the squeezing pack, wanting to exchange his life for ours.

With a growl and a grinding of teeth, I moved forward. One of the wolves snarled back at me, but my position was higher than his, despite my hunger and my youth.

I was close to him, and he looked at the infinite sky with a distant expression. Maybe he was dead. I touched his hand with my snout. The smell of the palm, sugar, butter and salt, reminded me of another life.

Then, I saw his eyes.

Awaken. Alive. Green.

The boy was staring at me, his eyes staring at mine with terrible honesty.

I backed up, stepped back, starting to shake again - but this time, it wasn't the anger that was shaking me.

His eyes on my eyes. His blood on my face.

I was falling apart, inside and out.

His life.

My life.

The pack backed away from me, suspicious. They snarled at me, one more time, and showed their teeth to the prey. I thought he was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen, an angel, bloodied in the snow. They were going to destroy him.

I saw it. I saw him, as I had never seen anything before.

_ And so I stopped them. _


	3. Chapter 3

**• Harry •**

I saw him other times after that, always in the cold. He stood at the edge of the woods with our yard, his blue eyes fixed on me as I filled the bird feeder or took out the trash, but he never came close. Between day and night, a time that lasted forever in the dead of winter, I clung to the old frozen swing until I felt his gaze. Or, later, I would come down from the back porch and approach in silence, hand forward, palm up, eyes down. No threat. I tried to speak his language.

However, as much as I waited, however much I tried to reach him, he always disappeared through the vegetation before I managed to cross the distance that was between us.

I was never afraid of him. He was big enough to pull me off the swing, strong enough to knock me over and drag me into the woods. But the ferocity of his body did not exist in his eyes. I remembered his look, every blue tone, and I couldn't be afraid. I knew he wouldn't hurt me.

I wanted him to know that I wouldn't hurt him.

I waited. And I waited.

And he waited, too, although I didn't know what. I felt that I was the only one to reach out.

But he was always there. Watching me watch him. Never any closer to me, but never farther.

And so it remained the same for three years. The frightening presence of wolves in winter and their even more frightening absence in summer. I didn't really think about time. I thought of wolves. Just wolves.


	4. Chapter 4

**• Louis •**

The day I almost spoke to him was the hottest day of my life. Even in the bookshop, which was air-conditioned, the heat was creeping through the door and streaming in through the large windows. Behind the counter, on the sunny bench, I felt the summer relaxed, as if I could keep every drop of it inside me. As the hours passed slowly, the sunlight passed through the products on the shelves, creating golden versions of the books, heating paper and ink to the point of making the smell of unread words hang in the air.

That was what I loved when I was human.

I was reading when the door opened with a small "plim", letting in a suffocating heat jet and a group of kids. They laughed too loudly to need my help, so I kept reading and left them hanging around, talking about everything but books.

I can't believe I would have paid attention to the boys if I hadn't noticed, out of the corner of my eye, one of them shaking his curly brown hair. The gesture itself was insignificant, but the movement sent a scent into the air. I recognized that smell. I knew immediately.

_ It was him. It had to be. _

I pulled the book closer to my face and risked a look in the boys' direction.

The other two, a giggly blonde boy and a tall blonde girl, were still talking and pointing to a little paper bird that I had hung from the ceiling above the children's book section. However, he did not speak; he was left behind, looking at the books around him. Then, I saw his face and recognized something of mine in that expression. His eyes moved quickly over the shelves, looking for escape possibilities.

In my head, I had planned a thousand different versions of that scene. Now that the moment had come, I didn't know what to do.

Here he was so real. It was different when he was in the yard, just reading a book or doing homework in a notebook. There, the distance between us was an impossible void; I could feel every reason to stay away. But here, in the bookstore, with me, he looked terribly close, like never before. There was nothing to stop me from talking to him.

His gaze turned to me and I quickly shifted mine to the book. He wouldn't recognize my face, but he would recognize my eyes. I needed to believe that he would recognize my eyes.

I prayed that he would leave, so that I could breathe again.

I prayed that I would buy a book, that I would be forced to speak to him.

The giggly blonde boy called:

\- Harry, come here and take a look at this. It looks good, what do you think?

I took a slow breath and looked at his sunny back as he leaned over and examined, with the others, the preparatory books for entering a university. A movement of his shoulders seemed to indicate only a polite interest: he nodded when his friends pointed to other books, but he seemed distracted. I observed the path that sunlight took from the windows, hitting his hair and transforming the strands, one by one, into pure shine. His head moved slightly back and forth to the rhythm of the background music.

\- Hi!

I jumped back when a face appeared in front of me. It wasn't Harry. It was the girl, with long blond locks of hair and red cheeks. A huge camera was slung over her shoulder and she looked right into my eyes. I didn't say anything, but I knew what she was thinking. Reactions to the color of my eyes ranged from stealthy to absolutely staring. At least she was being honest.

\- Mind if I take a picture of you? - She asked.

I looked for an excuse.

\- Some native peoples think that if you take a picture, you are taking your soul. For me, it's an argument that makes perfect sense, so I'm sorry, no photos. - I shrugged, apologizing. - You can take pictures of the store if you want.

The platinum blond boy pushed the girl with the camera. He had dyed blond hair and a very high tuft. It radiated so much energy that it exhausted me.

\- Flirting, Taylor? We don't have time for that. Here, let's take this one.

I took the book from his hands, looking around for Harry.

\- It's 19.99. - I said

My heart was racing.

\- For that book? he observed, giving me a twenty. - Keep the change.

I slowly put the book and the note in a bag, thinking that Harry could approach to see why it took so long.

But he was still in the biography section, his head tilted to the side as he read the spines. The blond boy took the bag and, with an unpleasant smile, turned to me and hm... Taylor. Then the two went to Harry and led him towards the door.

_ Turn around, Harry. Look at me. I'm right here. _

If he turned around now, he would see my eyes, and he would have to recognize me.

The blond boy opened the door and made an impatient sound for the rest of the pack: time to move on. Taylor turned quickly and her gaze found me again behind the counter. I knew I had my eyes fixed on them - on Harry - but I couldn't stop.

Taylor frowned and quickly left the store. The blonde said:

\- Harry, let's go!

My chest ached, because my body spoke a language that my head didn't quite understand.

I waited.

But Harry, the only person in the world I wanted to see me, just ran a finger over the cover of one of the exposed books and left the store. He didn't even realize that I was there, right within reach.


	5. Chapter 5

**• Harry •**

I didn't realize that the wolves in the woods were all werewolves until Lennon Payne was killed.

In September, in my last year at school, it happened. Lennon was the only subject in our little town. Not that Lennon was a fantastic kid when he lived - except for having the most expensive car in the entire lot, even more expensive than the director's. In fact, he was a bit of an asshole. But when he was killed... instant sanctity. With a chilling and sensational bonus, due to the way it had happened. In the five days after his death, I heard thousands of versions of the story through the school's hallways.

The result was this: everyone, now, was terrified of the wolves.

Since my mom wasn’t used to read the newspaper and my stepfather, Robin, was never at home, general anxiety crept into our family slowly, taking a few days to really take shape. My incident with the wolves had faded in my mother's head over the past few years, replaced by whatever it was. The attack on Lennon seemed to bring everything up.

It didn't even occur to my mother to reduce her anxiety to something logical, like spending more time with me who was, legitimately, the first person in the region to be attacked by wolves. Instead, all she did was use the incident to become even more brainless than usual.

\- Mom, do you need help with dinner?

She looked at me guiltily, turning away from the television and then focusing on the mushrooms she was destroying on the meat board.

\- It was so close to here, the place where they found him. 

Anne said, pointing the knife at the television. A map of our area appeared, next to a blurred photo of a wolf in the upper right corner of the screen. "The hunt for the truth continues," said the reporter. It was to be expected that, after a week repeating the same story over and over again, they would at least be able to give correct information. But the photo they showed wasn't even the same species as my wolf. _MY WOLF_. My wolf with its beautiful gray cloak and blue eyes.

\- I still can't believe it, - said mom. - Just across the forest. That's where they killed him.

\- Or where he died.

Mom frowned at me, delicately tired and beautiful as always.

\- What?

I looked up from my homework.

\- He may have just passed out on the side of the road and been dragged into the woods while unconscious. It's not the same, mom. You can't go around trying to spread panic.

She shook her head.

\- They _attacked_ him, Harry. _They attacked you_.

I looked out the window at the woods, the rows of ghost trees standing out against the darkness. If my wolf was there, I couldn't see.

\- Mother, you were the one who told me thousands and thousands of times: wolves, in general, are peaceful.

_Wolves are peaceful creatures._ That had been my mother's chorus for years and years. I think the only way she could continue to live in that house was by convincing herself that the wolves were not a threat and insisting that my incident was an isolated case. I don't know if she believed they were really peaceful, but I did. Looking at the forest, I observed the wolves during all the years of my life, I decorated their faces and their personalities. There was the thin, sickly-looking wolf, which had a matted fur and a cut ear. I could imagine him attacking a human in the woods again.

And there was the white wolf. I had read that wolves come together for life, and I saw her with the leader of the pack, a big wolf, as black as she was white. I had watched him lean his nose against hers and guide her through the trees. She had a kind of wild, aggressive beauty. I could also imagine her attacking a human being. But what about the rest? They were beautiful and silent ghosts in the woods. I did not fear them.

I frowned, looking at homework. Summers without my wolf were already pretty bad. When I was a kid, those months seemed too long, a time I just waited until the wolves came back. And it all got worse after I saw my blue-eyed wolf. During those long months, I imagined great adventures in which I transformed into a wolf at night and ran away with him to a golden forest where it never snowed. Now, I knew the golden forest would never exist, but the pack - just like my blue-eyed wolf - was real.

* * *

Sighing, I pushed my math book away, pushed it over the kitchen table, and went to join my mom.

\- Let me do that. You are making a mess.

She didn't protest, nor did I expect her to protest. Instead, she rewarded me with a smile and turned around, half expecting me to go over the awful job he was doing.

\- If you finish making dinner, - she said, - I will love you forever, son.

I made a face and took the knife out of her hand. Mom was always stained with ink and with her head in the world of the moon. She would never be like my friends' mothers: wearing an apron, cooking, vacuuming, the perfect housewife. I didn't really want her to be like the others. But seriously, I needed to finish my homework.

\- Thank you my darling. I'll be in the studio.

If she were one of those dolls that say five or six different things when you press, this would be one of your recorded phrases.

\- Don't pass out from the smell of paint - I said, but she was already running up the stairs.

I threw everything in a pot and looked at the clock on the wall. An hour for Robin to arrive from work. I had enough time to prepare dinner and maybe then try to look at my wolf.

The phone rang.

\- Hello?

\- Speech. What's up?

Niall. I was glad to hear his voice. I put the phone to my ear with my shoulder and started to chop a piece of meat while I spoke, separating a handful for later.

\- I'm just making dinner and watching the damn news.

He understood immediately what I was talking about.

\- I know. Everything is so surreal, right? It seems that they never get tired of it. It's kind of stupid. Gee, why don't they just shut up and let us get over it? It's bad enough to go to school and hear about it all the time. And you with the wolves and everything, it must be really boring you.

Niall spoke so quickly that I could barely understand him. I missed a lot of what he said in the middle, and then he asked:

\- Did Taylor called today?

Taylor was the third side of our triangle, the only one that came vaguely close to understanding my fascination with wolves. It was a rare night when I didn't speak to her or Niall on the phone.

\- She must be out there taking pictures. Isn't there a meteor shower tonight? - I asked.

Taylor saw the world through her camera and half of my school memories seemed to come from those images.

Niall said:

\- I think you're right. Taylor will definitely want a taste of this exciting _astrological_ activity. Can you talk a little bit?

I took a look at the clock.

\- More or less. Only while I finish dinner, then I have homework.

Okay. Just a second then. Three words, dear, check it out: RUN. A. WAY.

I started to put the meat in the pan.

\- That's two words, Nialler.

He stopped.

\- Yeah, in my head it looked better. But look, the thing is this: my parents said that if I want to go somewhere on this year's Christmas vacation, they pay. My God! Anywhere but... here! Can you and Tay come over here and help me choose something tomorrow after school?

\- Sure, sure.

\- If it's a really cool place, maybe you both can go too. - Said Niall.

I didn't answer right away. The word "Christmas" instantly recalled the smell of our Christmas tree, the dark expanse of the starry December sky seen from the backyard and the eyes of my wolf watching me from behind the snow-covered trees. No matter how long he was gone for the rest of the year. I always had my wolf back for Christmas.

Niall groaned.

\- Don't stay in that silence, Harry! Won't you tell me you don't want to leave this place?

I kind of didn't want to. I kind of belonged there.

\- I didn't say no, - I protested.

\- You didn't say _OHMYGODYES_ either. It was what you had to do. - He sighed - But you’ll come here, don't you?

\- You know I will - I said, craning my neck to look out the back window. - Now I really have to hang up.

\- Ok, ok, ok - said Niall - Bring cookies. Do not forget. Adore you. Bye. - He laughed and hung up.

I ran to put the pot on the stove, so it could take care of the food without me. Picking up a coat from the hooks on the wall, I opened the door to the backyard.

* * *

The cold air bit my face and pinched the tips of my ears, remembering me that the summer was officially over. My hat was tucked in my coat pocket, but I knew my wolf didn't always recognize me when I wore it, so I left it there. I scanned the end of the yard, coming down from the small porch, trying to look casual. The piece of meat in my hand was cold and slippery.

Making a noise, I followed the brittle grass to the middle of the yard and stopped.

The darkness at the edge of the forest moved and I saw my wolf standing behind a tree, nostrils sniffing the flesh in my hand. My relief at seeing him soon disappeared when he moved his head, letting some of the yellow light from the door fall on his face. I could see now that his chin was covered with old, dried blood. It had been dry for days.

His nostrils explored; he could smell the piece of meat in my hand. The meat, or the familiarity of my presence, was enough to make him take a few steps out of the woods. Then some more. Closer than it had ever been.

I looked at him so closely that I could have reached out and touched his shiny fur. Or wiped the red spot on its muzzle.

I really wanted that blood to be his. An old cut or scratch, the result of a fight.

But it didn't seem. It seemed to belong to another wolf. Or the other person.

\- Did you kill him? I whispered.

He did not disappear at the sound of my voice, as I had expected. I was as still as a statue, eyes watching my face instead of the flesh I had in my hand.

\- They only talk about it in the papers, the news - I said, as if he could understand. - They call it "savagery". They say wild animals did that. Did you do that?

He stared at me for a full minute, not moving, not blinking. And then, for the first time in all that time, he closed his eyes. It went against any natural instinct a wolf could have. A lifetime of staring, and now he was frozen in almost human pain, his glowing eyes closed, his head and tail down.

_It was the saddest thing I had ever seen._

Slowly, almost without moving, I approached him, afraid only to frighten him, not his bloody teeth and lips. His ears twitched, registering my presence, but he didn't move. I bent over, letting the meat fall beside me in the snow. He flinched when it hit the floor. I was close enough to smell his fur and the warmth of his breath.

So I did what I always wanted to do - I put one hand on the hair on his neck and, when he didn't shy away, I dipped both hands in his fur. The outside was not as smooth as it looked, but beneath the rough edges was a fluffy layer of hair. With a low moan, he pressed his head against me, eyes still closed. I held it as if it were nothing more than a domestic dog, although its wild and intense smell would not let me forget what he really was.

For a moment, I forgot where I was - who I was. For a moment, it didn't matter.

A movement caught my eye: in the distance, almost invisible, the white wolf watched us from the entrance to the forest, eyes burning.

I felt a snore against my body and realized that my wolf was snarling at her. The wolf approached, boldly, and he twisted in my arms to face her. I faltered at the sound of her teeth biting the air towards her.

She didn't growl and somehow, that was a bad sign. A wolf should growl. But she just watched, her eyes moving quickly from him to me, all of her body language emanating hate.

Still snarling, my wolf pressed even closer to me, forcing me to take a step back, then another, guiding me to the porch. My feet found the steps and I backed up to the door. He stayed close to the stairs until I opened the door and locked myself inside.

As soon as I entered, the white wolf ran and grabbed the piece of meat I had dropped. Although my wolf was closer and was his most obvious threat to his food, it was me that she faced, on the other side of the glass door. She held her gaze for a long moment before sliding into the woods like a spirit.

My wolf hesitated at the entrance to the woods, his eyes visible through the dim porch light. He was still watching my figure through the door.

I pressed my open hand against the cold glass.

The distance between us has never felt so big.


	6. Chapter 6

**• Harry •**

When Robin got home, I was still lost in the silent world of wolves, reliving the feeling of my wolf's coarse fur on my palm over and over again. His scent seemed to be ingrained in my clothes, keeping the encounter alive in my mind. It took years for him to let me touch him. Embrace him. And now he had protected me, as he always protected me. I desperately wanted to tell someone, but I knew that Robin would not share my excitement, especially with the newspapers ceaselessly talking about the attack. I kept my mouth shut.

That night, I lay in my room, eyes closed tight, trying to sleep. The world outside my window seemed silent, as if it had snowed. It was too early for snow, but all the sounds seemed muffled. Too quiet.

I held my breath and concentrated on the night, watching for any movement in the darkness.

I gradually realized that light crackles broke the outer silence, leaving me on the alert. To anyone, it sounded like little nails on the porch outside my window. A wolf? Maybe it was a raccoon. Then there were more light scratches, a snarl - it was definitely not a raccoon. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

I put my blanket around my body, like a cover; I jumped out of bed and slowly walked to the window, looking out on the balcony. I could see that the yard was empty. The black trunks of the trees protruded like a fence between me and the thick forest at the bottom.

Suddenly, a snout appeared right in front of my face, and I jumped in surprise. The white wolf was on the other side of the glass, its paws on the outer sill. She was so close that I could see the drops of moisture on her fur. Her eyes looked at me fiercely, daring me to look away. A low snore went through the glass and I felt as if I could read its meaning, as clearly as if it were written on the glass:  _ You are not his to protect _ .

I looked at her. Then, without thinking, I bared my teeth in a snarl. The snoring that escaped me surprised me as much as it did her. She jumped away from the window. She gave me a dark look over her shoulder and, before returning to the woods, urinated on the corner of the porch.

Biting my lip to erase the strange mark that the growl left in my mouth, I picked up my sweater from the floor and went back to bed. Pushing the pillow aside, I rolled up the sweater to put it under my head.

I fell asleep with the smell of my wolf. Pine tips, cold rain, earthy scent, rough bristles on my face.

It was almost as if he were there.


	7. Chapter 7

**• Louis •**

I could still smell him on my fur. It stuck with me, the memory of another world.

I had come too close. My instincts warned me. Especially when I remembered what had just happened to that other boy.

The smell of summer on his skin, the rhythm of his voice, the feel of his fingers in my fur. Every part of my body sang with the memory of proximity.

_ Too close. _

I couldn't stay away.


	8. Chapter 8

**• Harry •**

The following week, I was distracted at school, floating around during classes and barely making any notes. All I could think about was the feel of my wolf's fur under my fingers and the image of the white wolf snarling at me outside the window. My attention was aroused, however, when the director entered a room with a police officer in the Social Training class.

He was not there for any extraordinary reason, just to talk about his profession; how great it was to be in the police and the advantages of a good job that didn't require college.

\- Anyone here... hm... have you thought about joining the police force? - he asked and that " _ hm _ " ended him. If he hadn't hesitated, I think the class would have behaved.

One hand went up. Perrie, one of the countless students at the school who still wore black since Lennon's death, asked:

\- Is it true that Lennon's body was stolen from the morgue?

The crowd burst into whispers with that audacity and the guard looked at her as if he had a good reason to shoot her. But all he said was:

\- I am not allowed to discuss details of the ongoing investigation.

\- And there is an investigation? - Asked a male voice that I didn't recognize.

Perrie interrupted:

\- My mother heard that. Is it true? Why would anyone steal a body?

Theories sprang up.

\- It must be to cover up something. A suicide.

\- To smuggle drugs!

\- Medical experiments!

A boy said:

\- I heard that the Paynes have a stuffed bear at home, maybe they stuffed Lennon too.

Someone slapped the boy who made the last comment; it was still taboo to say something negative about Lennon or his family.

The guard looked in horror at the directress, who was standing at the open door of the room. She looked at him and then turned to the class:

\- Quiet!

We shut up.

She turned to the guard and asked:

\- So, the body was stolen?

He repeated:

\- I am not allowed to discuss details of the ongoing investigation.

But this time he sounded more helpless, as if there was a question mark at the end of the sentence.

\- Lennon was very dear to this community, - the directress said.

Which was an outright lie. But being dead had done wonders for Lennon's reputation. I bet everyone forgot how he lost his temper in the middle of the hall or even during classes.

\- We are still in mourning - added the directress - We are not talking about investigation. We are talking about a closing ritual for a united community.

The guard crossed his arms over his chest and started:

\- It is true. We're taking care of that. I understand that the loss of someone so young has a strong impact on the community, but I ask everyone to respect the family's privacy and the confidentiality of the investigation process.

Perrie waved her hand again:

\- Do you think wolves are dangerous? Do you receive many calls involving them? My mom said that you get a lot of calls involving them.

The guard looked apprehensive, but replied:

\- I don't think wolves are a threat to the population. In my opinion, and also in the opinion of the rest of the Department, this was an isolated case.

Perrie said:

\- But he was also attacked!

Ah, great! Although I couldn't see her, I knew she was pointing at me, because everyone was looking at me. I bit my lip inside. Not because the attention bothered me, but because whenever someone remembered that I had been dragged from the tire swing, I also remembered that it could happen to anyone. And I wondered how many memories it would take until someone decided to go after the wolves.

Go after my wolf.

I knew that was the real reason why I couldn't forgive Lennon for dying.

\- It was a long time ago, - I said to the guard, and he looked relieved when I added, - Years. - And they may have been dogs.

I lied. Who would contradict me?

\- Exactly - he said, emphatically. - Exactly. There is no reason to defame wild animals by accident. And there is no reason to panic when there is no evidence. Panic leads to carelessness, and carelessness causes accidents.

_ Exactly what I thought. _

After class ended, the other students started talking about Lennon again, but Liam approached me with a roll of his eyes and ran to his lockers.


	9. Chapter 9

**• Harry •**

I felt a tug on my hair and turned around: it was Niall, standing behind me, looking at me and Taylor with a frown.

\- Dear ones, I will have to cancel the meeting this afternoon. Can we meet tomorrow or the day after?

I had barely nodded in agreement and Niall was already shooting a big smile and winding down the hall.

\- Do you want to go to my house then? - I asked Taylor.

It was still weird to ask. In elementary school, she, Niall and I met every day. Somehow, everything had changed after Niall got his first girlfriend, leaving Taylor and me, the dull boring ones, and shaking our quiet friendship.

\- Sure, - said Taylor, picking up his things to follow me down the hall. She pinched my elbow: - Look.

She pointed at Liam, Lennon's twin (and grieving) brother, a classmate who held more than the beauty quota per person allowed.

At that very moment, Liam was staring into his closet, as if there were other worlds in it. Taylor said:

\- He's not in black.

Liam came out of the trance and glared at us, as if he realized we were talking about him. I quickly looked the other way, but I continued to feel his eyes on me.

\- Perhaps he is no longer in mourning, - I said, after we left him.

Taylor opened the door for me.

\- Maybe he's the only one who's ever been mourning.

* * *

Back at my place, I made coffee and blackcurrant muffins, and we sat at the kitchen table to peruse a pile of the last pictures Taylor had taken. For her, photography was a religion; she idolized her machine and studied techniques as if they were rules for her life.

\- He was really cute. You can't say it wasn't, ”she said.

\- Are you still talking about the guard? What is wrong with you? - I shook my head and took another photo - I never saw you obsessed with a real person.

She laughed mischievously and bit a cupcake, speaking with her mouth full:

\- I think I'm becoming one of those girls who like guys in uniforms. Oh, come on... didn't you think he was cute? I'm feeling... I'm feeling the need for a boyfriend. We should order pizza one of these days. Niall told me that one of the couriers is cute.

I rolled my eyes again.

\- Do you suddenly want a boyfriend?

Taylor did not look up from the photos, but I had the impression that she paid full attention to my question.

\- You don’t?

I mumbled:

\- When the right person appears, someone nice and with whom I can have fun ... I think so.

\- How will you know if you're not looking?

\- As if you ever had the chest to talk to some guy. One that wasn't James Dean from your poster.

My voice came out harsher than I intended: I added a laugh at the end to break the tension. Taylor's eyebrows came together, but she didn't say a word. We sat in silence for a long time, leafing through the photos.

\- Did you see this one? - She showed me a picture.

It was my wolf, at the bottom of the forest and partially hidden by a tree, but he had managed to capture, with perfect focus, a piece of his face, and his eyes looked into mine.

\- You can have this one.

\- Thank you, - I replied, meaning more. I pointed to the photo: - Is it from last week?

She nodded and I looked at the photo for a long time - breathtaking, but without the intensity and vibration of reality. I ran my thumb over it, as if it touched his fur. I felt a bitter and sad knot in my chest. I realized that Taylor was looking at me, and it just made me feel worse, more lonely. In the past, I would have discussed it with her, but now it seemed too personal. Something had changed - and I think it was me.

Taylor handed me a small stack of photos that I had separated from the rest.

\- These are my pride.

Distracted, I leafed through them slowly. They were impressive. After many _ohs_ and _ahs_ of surprise and approval, I disguised it and placed the photo of my wolf on top of the pile to examine it again.

Taylor made an angry noise and I took another photo. A leaf floating in a puddle.

\- I liked this one. The colors are... fantastic.

She snatched the pile of photos out of my hand and threw the wolf picture at me so hard that the piece of paper bounced off my chest and fell to the floor.

\- Yeah. Sometimes, Harry, I don't even know why I bother to...

She didn't finish the sentence, just shook his head. I did not understand. Did she want me to pretend to like the other photos more than my wolf's one?


	10. Chapter 10

**• Harry •**

After that scene it wasn't long before Taylor found an excuse to leave.

Alone, I stood there in the kitchen, lit by the cold afternoon light coming in through the balcony door, feeling sorry for me, more because of Taylor's photo than the empty house. I hadn't seen my wolf in the flesh since the day I touched him, almost a week ago, and even though I knew I shouldn't feel this way, his absence still stabbed me. It was ridiculous I need his appearance at the bottom of the yard to feel complete. Ridiculous, but absolutely incurable.

I went to the back door and opened it, smelling the woods. Just in my socks, I slid down the porch and leaned on the parapet.

If I hadn't gone outside, I don't know if I would have heard the scream.

The scream came from beyond the trees again. For a second, I thought it was a howl, but then the cry became words: "Help! Help!"

I swore the voice sounded like Lennon Payne's.

But that was impossible. It was just my imagination remembering his voice in the cafeteria, as he always seemed louder than the others when he teased the girls in the hall. Still, I followed the sound of the voice, crossing the yard and diving through the trees. The damp and rough soil stuck my feet, the absence of shoes made me even more clumsy. The sounds of my steps drowned out everyone else. I hesitated, trying to listen. The voice was gone, replaced by a distinctly animal groan and then silence.

The relative safety of the yard was far from me now. I stopped for a moment, listening for any sign that showed me where the first cry came from. I knew it wasn't in my head.

But there was only silence.

I didn't care much about the stupidity of doing that. I went into the woods until there, going a little further to try to see my wolf again would not hurt anyone. I came home just to put my shoes on and plunged back into the cold autumn day. The breeze was hard, but the sun was shining.

Around me, the leaves died in shades of red and orange. I hadn't gone that far in that forest since the day I was dragged by the wolves but, strangely, I wasn't scared.


	11. Chapter 11

**• Harry •**

I walked carefully, avoiding the small puddles that appeared between the undergrowth. Although this was definitely not family territory, I felt safe, confident. Guided in silence as if by a strange sixth sense, I followed the worn trails, often used by wolves.

Of course, I knew it wasn't really a sixth sense. It was just me, recognizing that in my senses there was more than I usually allowed to surface. When I gave in, my senses became efficient, heightened. The breeze seemed to bring information from a lot of maps, telling me which animals had traveled, where and how long before. My ears picked up even the faintest sounds: the brush of a stick while a bird made a nest up there, the soft step of a deer from meters away.

I felt at  _ home _ .

An unusual cry that had no place in that world ran through the woods. I hesitated, attentive. The lament came to me again, now louder than before.

Around a pine tree, I came across the source of the sound: three wolves. It was the white wolf and the black leader of the pack. When I saw the wolf, my stomach clenched with nervousness. They had a third wolf in their possession, a very thin and clumsy young male, with an ugly wound starting to heal on his back. The other two wolves kept him grounded, in a show of dominance. Everyone froze when they saw me. The trapped male twisted his head to look at me with pleading eyes. My heart beat faster. I knew those eyes. I remembered them at school; I remembered them in the papers.

\- Lennon? - I whispered.

The trapped wolf hissed through his nostrils in a pitying cry. I just kept looking at those eyes. Hazelnut. Did wolves have hazel eyes? Perhaps. Why did they look so strange? As I watched them, my mind hammered a single word: human, human, human.

With a growl in my direction, the female let him up. In a sudden movement, she moved to stand beside him, pushing him away from me. Her eyes fixed on me all the time, daring me to stop her, and something in me suggested that maybe I should try. When the turmoil in my thoughts subsided and I remembered the pocketknife in my jeans pocket, the three wolves were already dark patches among the trees.

Without the wolves' eyes before me, I wondered if the resemblance to Lennon's had been my imagination. After all, two weeks had passed since I last saw him in person and, in fact, I had never paid much attention to him. I might not remember his eyes properly. What was I thinking? That he had turned into a wolf?

I let out a deep breath. This is actually what I thought. I didn't believe I had forgotten Lennon's eyes, just as I knew how to find my way through the trees.

There was a knot in my stomach. Nerves. Expectancy. I didn't think he was the only secret hidden in those woods.

That night, in bed, I looked out the window with the blinds up and through the night sky. A thousand bright stars opened holes in my consciousness, multiplied my yearnings. I could watch the stars for hours and hours, their infinity dragging me to a part of me that I ignored during the day.

Outside, deep in the woods, I heard a long cry, and then another. More howls emerged, some low and sad, others in a high, short tone. All united in a sinister chorus. I knew my wolf's howl; his tone was intense and, at the same time, delicate. He stood out above the others as if begging me to hear him.

My heart ached in my chest, torn between wanting to stop and wanting to continue forever. I imagined myself among them in the woods, watching them throw their heads back and howl under the starry sky. I compressed my eyes to wipe away a tear, feeling foolish and unhappy, but I didn't fall asleep until all the wolves had stopped.


	12. Chapter 12

**• Harry •**

\- Do you think we need to take the books home to read? Or can I leave them here? - I asked Taylor.

She closed her locker’s door with her arms full of books.

\- There's a lot to read, I'll take them.

I reopened my locker to get the books. Behind us, the noise in the corridor was loud; the students packed their things to go home. All day I had been trying to muster the courage to tell her about the wolves. Normally I wouldn't even have to think about it, but after our almost fight, the right moment never seemed to come. And now the day was almost over. I took a deep breath.

\- I saw the wolves yesterday.

Taylor absently flipped through the first book in her pile, unaware of the importance of my confession.

\- Which ones?

\- The nasty she-wolf, the black and a new one.

I wondered again if I should tell her or not. She was much more interested in wolves than Niall, and I didn't know who else to talk to. Even in my head, it seemed crazy, but since the end of the previous afternoon, the secret had been chasing me, tightening my chest and neck. In a low voice, I let the words out.

\- Tay, this is going to sound crazy. The new wolf... I think something happened when the wolves attacked Lennon.

She just looked at me.

\- Lennon Payne - I said.

\- I know who you're talking about - She frowned at the closet.

Her eyebrows made me regret having started the conversation. I sighed.

\- I think I saw him in the woods. Lennon. Like a... - I hesitated.

\- Wolf?

Taylor clicked her heels - I had never seen anyone do that, outside of The Wizard of Oz - and turned on them to look me in the face, one eyebrow raised:

\- You are crazy!

I could barely hear it with the noise in the hall.

\- I mean, it's a good fantasy, and I can understand why you want to believe it, but you're crazy. I'm sorry.

I got closer to her.

\- Tay, I know what I saw. It was Lennon's eyes. It was  _ his voice _ .

Her doubts made me doubt it, of course, but I wouldn't confess it.

\- I think the wolves made him one of them. Wait, what do you mean? That I want to believe this?

Taylor looked at me for a long time, then walked out into the main hall.

\- Harry, seriously. Do you think I don't know why all this?

- _ Why? _

She answered with another question:

\- Are they  _ all  _ werewolves, then?

\- What? The whole bunch? Do not know. I did not think of that.

It hadn't crossed my mind yet. It should have, but it didn't. It was impossible. Were those long absences because my wolf disappeared when it adopted a human form? I couldn't stand that idea right away: I wanted it so badly that it hurt.

\- No, of course not. Don't you think that your obsession is getting a little weird, Harry?

My answer sounded more defensive than I intended.

\- I'm not obsessed.

The students shot us angry looks when she stopped in the hall, one finger on her chin.

\- Um, you just think about it, just think about it and just want to talk about it. What could we call such a thing? Ah, it's true: OBSESSION!

\- I'm just interested - I said - And I thought you were too.

\- I  _ am _ interested. It's just not a fixed interest, to just think about it all the time, call it what you want. I don't fantasize about becoming a wolf - Her eyes narrowed - We're not 13 anymore, Harry. It looks like you still don't understand that.

I did not answer. I thought she was being unfair, but she didn't mean it. I didn't want to say anything. I wanted to get away and leave her standing there in the hall. But I didn't. Instead, I kept my voice super calm and controlled:

\- Sorry to bother you for so long, Taylor. It must have been a pain in the ass for you.

She made a face.

\- Seriously, Harry. I don't want to be boring, but frankly...

\- No, you're just saying that I'm bizarrely obsessed with something that's important to me. Thank you for your help.

\- Oh, grow up! - She replied and started to walk away.


	13. Chapter 13

**• Harry •**

The corridor seemed very quiet after she was gone, and my face burned. Instead of going home, I went back to the empty lounge, collapsed into a chair and rested my head on my hands. I couldn't remember the last time I had a fight with Taylor. I had seen all the photos she had already taken, I listened to all her complaints when her family pressed her to be a good student. Taylor had to at least listen to me. She owed me that.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of steps hitting the floor of the room. The smell of expensive perfume hit me a second before I looked up and saw Liam staring at me.

\- I heard you talked about the wolves yesterday with that guard. -His voice was pleasant, but the expression in his eyes belied the soft tone. - I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt and assuming you're an innocent misinformed, rather than a complete retard. I hear you're saying that wolves aren't a problem. You must not have heard the latest news: those animals killed my brother!

\- I'm sorry about Lennon, - I said, automatically wanting to jump in defense of my wolf. For a second I thought about Lennon's eyes and what that revelation could do to Liam, but I dismissed the idea almost instantly. If Taylor thought I was crazy for believing in werewolves, Liam would probably call the nearest madhouse to pick me up.

\- Shut up! - he said, interrupting my thoughts - I know you will tell me that wolves are not dangerous. Look, it's obvious they are! And it's also obvious that someone is going to have to do something about it.

My mind wandered to that conversation with the guard in the classroom. The Paynes and their stuffed animals. I imagined my wolf, stuffed and with glass eyes.

\- You are not sure if that was done by the wolves. He may have been... - I stopped. I knew it was the wolves. - Look, something very wrong happened, but it could have been a single wolf. It is possible that the rest of the pack has nothing to do with...

\- How wonderful! - Liam replied. He spent a good time just staring at me. Long enough for me to wonder what he was thinking. And then he said: -I'm serious. You better give up on your Greenpeace love for wolves. They will not stay here for long, whether you like it or not.

My voice tensed:

\- Why are you telling me this?

\- I'm sick of you telling everyone that they're harmless. They killed him. But you know what? Now it's over. Today. - he hit, with a closed fist, the table on which I leaned - That's it.

I grabbed his wrist before he could leave.

\- What are you talking about?

Liam stared at my hand on his wrist, but didn't pull his arm. He wanted me to ask.

\- What happened to Lennon will never happen again. They're killing the wolves. Today.  _ Now _ .

He unhooked the wrist from my hand, which had started to sweat cold as soon as he said those words, and went out the door.

For a brief moment I sat there, my face burning, separating the words and putting them back together.

Then I jumped out of the chair. My legs felt weak and faltered a little, but I ran to the car anyway.

* * *

When I got behind the wheel I was out of breath, Liam's words hammering over and over in my head. I never considered wolves vulnerable, but all of a sudden, they seemed to me tremendously fragile.

I turned the key in the ignition, feeling the car reluctantly come back to life, just like me. Had they gathered a group to chase the wolves? Were they hunting now?

I needed to get home.

The car drowned.

\- Damn it!

I felt the moisture coming into my stinging eyes. I bit my lip, concentrated, and managed to start again.

As I drove, accelerating as fast as I could, I felt nervousness turn my stomach.

When the sky started to turn a bright red on the horizon, my heart started to pound in my ears and my whole skin tingled. Everything about me screamed that there was something wrong. I didn't know what troubled me the most, whether the nerves that made my hands shake or the urgency to close my fists and fight.

Ahead, I saw a line of pickup trucks on the shoulder, near the entrance to the forest. The lanterns blinked in the falling night, releasing streaks of light through the trees. A figure leaned over the pickup at the end of the line, holding something I couldn't make out from that distance. Discomfort invaded me again, and when I slowed down, the engine gasped and died, leaving me standing in a sinister silence.


	14. Chapter 14

**Harry**

Growling and gritting my teeth, I stepped into the cold and slid the car to one of the stops behind the trucks. I called Mom on my cell phone, but she didn't answer - she was probably at an event in the gallery. Actually, how to get home didn't worry me; it was close enough to walk. What worried me were the cars up front. They meant Liam had told the truth.

I got out of the car and recognized the guy standing by the car in front. The same policeman who had visited the school, but now without a uniform and holding a shotgun.

\- Problems with the car? - He asked.

I didn't answer right away, my eyes searched everything around. Dozens of hunters huddled on the shoulder, all holding rifles and other weapons I didn't recognize. I lost my breath. The hunt had begun.

I turned to the guard and pointed at the gun he was holding.

\- Is this for wolves?

He looked at it as if he had forgotten what he was carrying.

\- That is…

I heard a loud crack from the woods behind him. The group on the road exploded in celebration.

\- What was this? - I asked, but I knew the answer. It was a shot. My voice was steady, which surprised me. - They're hunting the wolves, aren't they?

\- With all due respect, boy, - he said, - I think you should wait in the car. I can give you a ride home, but you'll need to wait a while.

A scream echoed through the woods and, in the distance, another shot. My God. The Wolves.  _ My wolf _ .

I grabbed the man's arm.

\- You have to tell them to stop! You can't shoot there!

He took a step back, pulling on his arm.

\- Boy...

There was another shot from a distance. Low and insignificant. In my head, I saw the perfect image of a wolf lying on the ground, wounded, its eyes dead. I didn't think, the words came out alone.

\- Your phone. You need to call them and tell them to stop. A friend of mine is there! She was going to take pictures this afternoon. In the woods. Please, you have to call them!

\- What? - he froze - There’s someone out there? Are you sure?

\- Have! - I said, because I was sure. - Please call them!

Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he dialed quickly and raised the phone to his ear. After a second, he put the phone away and looked at the screen.

-The signal… - he murmured and tried again.

Looking at the phone, he shook his head.

\- It’s not working. Wait a moment. You know, everything will be fine. They are taking care. I'm sure they wouldn't shoot a person, but I'll go over and warn them, just a second.

Another shot. Another shot and something inside me seemed to give way. I just couldn't wait any longer. I ran and dived through the trees, leaving him there, astonished. I could still hear him calling me, but I was already well into the woods. I needed to stop them. Warn my wolf. Do something.

But as I ran, sneaking through the trees and jumping over fallen branches, all I could think about was that I was too late.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I want to start by apologizing for keeping you all waiting for so long. I'm not going into details, but I can say that there's a lot going on for me right now with school, work and the worse of things: I'm not a in very bright place when it comes to my mental and physical health.
> 
> I'm sorry. The next chapter might take a while to get published and not only for Shiver, but every other story I've been trying to update. I hope you guys can understand and I promise I'll do my best to put up new chapters as soon as I can.

**_Louis_ **

We ran. We were silent and dark drops of water, dripping through the trees as the men pushed us forward.

The forest I knew, the forest that protected me, had been invaded by screams and acid scents. I fought for space with the other wolves, leading and following, keeping us together. Fallen trees and undergrowth did not help at all. I flew to avoid stumbling - big jumps; I barely touched the floor.

It was terrifying, I didn't know where I was.

We exchanged simple images in our vague speechless words: dark figures behind us, bright alerts, icy wolves, immobile wolves, the smell of death in our nostrils.

A crack deafened me, I lost my balance. I heard a groan beside me. I knew who it was without turning my head. I couldn't stop, there was no time; there was nothing I could do, even if there was something to be done.

A new smell hit my nostrils: rotting earth and standing water. The lake. They were pushing us, forcing us to get to the lake.

We were the hunt. We slid in front of them, ghosts in the woods, and we would be defeated whether we fought or not. A flock of wolves huddled by the lake, with no chance of escape.

The others continued to run towards the lake.

But I stopped.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I want to start by apologizing for keeping you all waiting for so long. I'm not going into details, but I can say that there's a lot going on for me right now with school, work and the worse of things: I'm not a in very bright place when it comes to my mental and physical health.
> 
> I'm sorry. The next chapter might take a while to get published and not only for Shiver, but every other story I've been trying to update. I hope you guys can understand and I promise I'll do my best to put up new chapters as soon as I can.

**_Harry_ **

This was not the forest I had been in a few days before, tinged with all the vivid tones of autumn. It was a closed forest, formed by a thousand dark trunks, blackened by dusk. The sixth sense that I imagined before having guided me, had disappeared. All known shortcuts destroyed by hunters. I was disoriented, I needed to stop several times to hear the screams and footsteps on the dry and brittle leaves.

My breath was burning in my throat when I saw a point of light. Flashlight. I screamed, but the figure was too far away to hear me. Then, I saw others. Dots spread across the forest, moving slowly, in the same direction. Making noise. Pushing the wolves forward.

Suddenly, a burst of gunfire exploded like roars, not far away. They were not small bursts like the ones I heard on the side of the road, they were exploding rockets. My ears rang.

In a strange way, I felt totally objective, as if I were out of my own body. So I could see that my knees were weak and shaky, but without knowing why, and I heard my heartbeat racing.

There was a metallic taste in my mouth so convincing that I touched my lips, hoping to find blood. But there was nothing, no pain. Only the absence of meaning.

My wolf.  _ My wolf. _ I could only think of his eyes.

The cold air was beginning to pinch my face, the night getting colder and colder. I felt as frozen inside as I did outside. I was absolutely sure my wolf was there, a stab ripped through my chest with each shot and then I ran.

* * *

I stopped at the exit of the woods, looking at the dark glass of the back door, which opened onto the balcony. The whole house seemed to be in the shadows, uninhabited.

All my blood was pounding like a thousand drums inside me.

I went into the yard and for a moment I stood there, in the silent dusk, listening to the distant voices in the woods and the wind that swayed the leaves above.

And while I was there, immersed in what I imagined to be silence, I started to hear sounds that I didn't notice before. Animal footsteps in the woods, stirring the dry leaves with their paws. The distant roar of trucks on the highway. The sound of rapid, desperate breathing.

I stood still. I held my breath.

But that breathless sound was not mine.

I followed the sound, carefully climbing up to the balcony, painfully aware of the noise of each step against the steps.

I smelled it before I saw him. My heart speeding up at the same moment. My wolf. Then the motion-sensing lamp lit above the back door, flooding the porch with its yellow light. And he was there, half sitting, half leaning against the glass door.

My whole body ached as I got closer. His beautiful fur was gone and he was naked, but I knew it was my wolf before he even opened his eyes. His blue eyes, so well-known, suddenly opened when he heard me coming, but he didn't move. There was red from the ears to the shoulders, which were desperately human.

I can't say how I knew it was him, but I never doubted it was.

Werewolves did not exist.

Despite telling Taylor that I had seen Lennon, I didn't really believe it. Not like that.

The breeze brought the smell back to my nostrils, calling me back to reality. Blood. I was wasting time.

I took the keys and reached over to open the back door. Too late, I saw one of his hands reach out and catch the air as he fell in the door, leaving a blood stain on the glass.

\- I’m sorry! - I spoke.

I don't know if he heard me. I jumped on top of him, ran into the kitchen and turned on the lights as I entered. I took a pile of tea towels from a drawer and noticed, out of the corner of my eye, Robin's car keys on the counter. Excellent. If I needed to, I could use his car.

I ran back to the back door. I was afraid that the boy had disappeared while my back was turned, but he was still there, motionless. Lying down, half inside the kitchen, half outside. He was shaking violently.

Without thinking, I grabbed him under the arms and dragged him inside, just enough to be able to close the door.

I got down quickly. My voice was just a whisper:

\- What happened?

I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him speak.

He was pressing his neck with his fingers, the knots were white, and a red, shiny liquid leaked between them.

\- Gunshot.

My stomach churned, not at what was said, but at the tone of that voice. It was him. Words and not a howl, but the tone was the same.  _ It was him. _


End file.
